“For one thing, it makes me horny.”
“Oh? Is that all?” Alice smirked. “I think I can handle horny Alex.” It was nice to hear him teasing her. If he was able to make sex jokes, he couldn’t be too mad.
“And sleepy.”
“Well, that is a problem, isn’t it? The two don’t tend to play well together.”
“Tell me about it. It’s like the old NyQuil experiment.”
“The what?”
“You know, take a dose of NyQuil and try to jerk off. See what wins—the drugs or the big O.” He yawned on the other end of the line. “Right now I think the sleep would win.”
“Maybe no wine then.”
“Maybe not. But I’d still like to see you.” There was something lingering at the end of the sentence, like a nearly audible ellipsis, the unspoken words coming through louder than the spoken ones.
“Yeah. I think it might be a good idea for me to come over. I have to make sure Liv is fed and in bed. I don’t much trust my mother’s maternal skills when it comes to caring for a child. You think you can last a couple hours?”
“I can try.”
“That’s all I ask.”
“For you, babe, I’ll skip the NyQuil.” He chuckled then yawned again. “Give me a call before you come this way.”
“Why, so you can kick the other women out?”
His reply was a short, derisive snort. “No, so I can make sure you don’t get here and find me passed out in my boxers in a puddle of my own drool.”
“That was almost a sexy mental image until you added the drool part.”
“As luck would have it, I’m almost sexy, except for the reality part.”
Olivia had come to stand in the front door, peering out at Alice through the screen. Her bruises had begun to fade, but the yellow-green residue they left behind made her look sick, giving her cinnamon-colored skin a gray, unhealthy hue. But overall the kid was healing up beautifully. Alice figured she’d be able to go back to school the following week.
Blessedly, Kevin was scheduled to be released over the weekend, though his recovery would come much slower. Broken bones didn’t heal the same as bruises.
Not to mention the things beneath the surface that might never heal.
She shook her head as if she could dislodge the unhappy thoughts of her brother and the issues no casts would be able to fix. Liv had both brows raised expectantly. Alice shook one of the bags in her daughter’s direction, and Liv’s giant eyes lit up.
Alice wouldn’t win any mother-of-the-year awards by stuffing her child full of McDonald’s and calling it dinner, but it wasn’t like she made a regular habit of it. She had tried to leave a healthy dinner, but Misty had managed to mess it up.
Huge shocker there.
“I gotta go. I’ll call you in a bit so you have time to kick your hoes to the curb and take your hand out of your boxers before I show up.”
“I can only promise one of two.”
“Better than nothing.” She hung up, tucking the phone in her back pocket and gathering up the bags.
“Did you get me a Happy Meal?” Liv asked, her voice tentative. She was at the weird in-between age where she wanted to seem older than she was, but in many ways still clung to her childhood.
“I did.” Alice wasn’t sure if this was the correct answer, but when Liv made grabby hands in her direction, she assumed she’d done all right. She handed off the smaller of the two bags once she was through the door, and Liv ran off towards the kitchen, barely raising her eyes as she searched for the toy.
“That you, Al-Al?” Misty’s voice came from the kitchen, raspy in a way that might be considered sexy, only Alice knew how many cigarettes the woman had smoked to get it. She was a half-dozen packs away from needing one of those throat boxes to talk for her, but nothing would dissuade Misty from her habit, and Alice had long since stopped trying.
“No, it’s a neighborhood burglar who likes to leave McDonald’s in their wake.”
“Hardy-har-har. You get me anything?” In addition to being a chain smoker, Misty had been on and off every diet known to man since Alice was a little girl. When Alice had been about Liv’s age, her mother had enrolled them in Weight Watchers together, saying Alice was getting a bit hefty. Ever since, Alice had been hyperaware of her weight. Once she’d popped out a kid, though, her body lost interest in being stick thin. She’d had to learn to accept the curves that came along with motherhood the same way she’d accepted the baby.
“I got you a regular burger, no cheese, and a small fries.” She lay the dinner out on the kitchen table where Liv was already devouring her Chicken McNuggets with the zest of a starvation victim. “I’m going out again once Liv gets to bed.” She didn’t ask permission because that would give Misty an opportunity to say no.